


And Here We Go Again

by Merwin_Me



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Burning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Wild Hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 18:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12823182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merwin_Me/pseuds/Merwin_Me
Summary: Stiles doesn't agree with Peter's plan to go through the portal and escape the Wild Hunt alone.If they're going to escape, they're going to do it together.Here goes nothing.





	And Here We Go Again

Stall them. Distract them.

 

The rotting train station was silent around them, rotting benches standing unevenly on the cracked stone of the platform, lampposts flickering a sickly green light every so often, seeming to be getting their power from the humid air present through this entire damned place.

 

Peter couldn’t see his face, had turned his back to Stiles the moment he had called him the clever one.

 

_Distract them_. How was he supposed to distract these cowboys from hell? Was he supposed to wave his arms, call them to him, or was he supposed to shove something—oh. There were the benches.

 

Those could work. The horses would trip over them, so they’d have to steer around them, or jump over them, but they might be distracted enough not to notice Peter as he—

 

As he what? Jumped on the back of one of the horses? As he galloped on horse-back to the portal which had just _vaporized_ some poor kid? Burned him alive in a magical fire until there was nothing but a pile of _ashes_ , fire that burned so quick but not painlessly, not at all. The _screams_ had been shrill and high, rattling through his body and leaving him shaking.

 

Distract them, Stiles, you’re the clever one, aren’t you.

 

_Distract them while I burn._

 

There was a chance Peter would survive going through the portal, but both of them knew how slim that chance was. There was a desperation in Peter’s seemingly selfless act of attempting to leave this place, a desperation not to be forgotten forever, to forget he once lived in anything but a run-down train station waiting for a train that would never come.

 

A desperation to die.

 

Peter was once again a lone wolf, an omega cast out by his pack and dumped in Eichen House after a last mad grab for power, for sanity. This, what he was planning, this was no act of heroics, no selfless move on the wolf’s part to save them both.

 

In the distance, Stiles heard the horses neigh as the Wild Hunt got closer, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off of Peter’s tense back.

 

This was a suicide attempt.

 

Suicide by burning for the third time.

 

Like. Hell.

 

“Distract them. Right,” Stiles muttered to himself as he gave one of the old benches a solid kick, ignoring the glance Peter shot him over his shoulder.

 

The benches should work, long enough for Peter to get on the back of one of the horses.

 

Sparks flitted between his fingers in anticipation of what was to come, of the vague idea that was growing clearer with every second that passed.

 

Stiles only had time to put three benches on the rails before the sound of pounding hooves got too close to the tunnel’s entrance, and he took a step back, mirroring the way Peter hid behind a pillar, waiting for the riders to arrive.

 

The Hunt came through the tunnel with a lot of noise, hooves clanging against the rails as the obstacles came into view and the horses slowed considerably. Stiles eyed the first couple of horses a bit nervously as they jumped over the benches, dismissing them as a ride as the horses still had too much speed.

 

Peter jumped on the last horse that had jumped over an obstacle, and suddenly Stiles was out of options.

 

The last horse had reared on its hind-legs when it came too close to clipping one of the broken benches, halting its movements long enough that it would have to pick up speed again.

 

Peter had just hit the saddle when he heard one of the riders let out a shrill screech and looked behind him, eyes wide as he watched Stiles kick the last rider off their horse.

 

“Stiles, _no_!” Didn’t the stupid boy know that he was going to die, that he was going to hit the portal and combust, burn to a crisp, leaving not even a memory of himself behind?!

 

Grinding his teeth together, Stiles dug his heels into the horse’s sides, urging it to go faster so that he could reach Peter before the wolf reached the portal which was now glowing a sickly green, the first of the rider’s having passed through it.

 

“DON’T!” Peter shouted at Stiles, Beta shift coming forth as he looked at Stiles, horrified as the boy’s horse pulled up next to him. Stiles gave him a grim smile, before holding out a hand towards him, palm up and inviting.

 

And glowing.

 

Peter wasted a precious second as he stared at the sparks flitting over Stiles’ hand, lighting the hazel in his eyes until they glowed an an brilliant beta-gold.

 

“Hold on!” Stiles yelled, even as his body started glowing, as he pushed and pulled on his Spark, reaching out to Peter and _believing_ as the portal got closer and closer. “ _Peter, hold on_!”

 

With a glance at the portal, Peter lifted his arm, reaching out almost in slow motion so that his fingers brushed over Stiles’ open palm. As the glow of Stiles’ Spark flared and spread to envelop them both, Peter’s eyes started glowing beta blue, a howl being ripped out of him as the magic dug its way into his body and soul, spreading throughout his very body even as Stiles glowed brighter and brighter.

 

“ _Don’t let go_!”

 

That was all Peter heard before the wolf and the Spark hit the portal at the same time.

 

For a second, nothing seemed to happen, even as the glow of Stiles’ Spark kept growing brighter and brighter. Peter saw the exact moment when the strain of magic grew to be too much for Stiles’ still very much human body to take, as he started tearing up, panicked expression turning to silent agony. Stiles’ mouth dropped open in a silent scream as his Spark was ripped apart while they went through the portal, flicking around him and Peter even while it tore into them. Setting them on fire.

 

Peter’s screams joined Stiles’ as he felt his skin start to itch and burn once again, but even though he _burned_ , he found he couldn’t take his eyes off of Stiles, staring at the young man in horror as skins started to redden and blacken, little bits of flesh and muscle flaking off into the storm of magic swirling around them, until he could see white bone peaking through the burned muscle.

 

Stiles’ screams had long since fallen silent, throat a giant blistering burn, just like Peter knew the rest of Stiles’ body, and his _own_ , would look like if he just glanced down.

 

The last thing either of them saw were each other’s eyes as they started to boil and melt, before the magic dissipated with a bright flash of light.

 

And then, nothing.

 

——

 

Stiles sat up with a gasp, scream stuck in his throat as the feeling of flames eating through his muscles sputtered out, leaving the surface of his body feeling tender and itchy. Throwing the comforter off of himself, Stiles held up his hand in front of him, examining the unburned flesh of his arm with confused awe.

 

Twisting his hand slowly revealed that nothing was burned, no part of his skin showing even a bit of irritation or redness, in contrast to feeling as if his skin was stretched too tightly all over his body.

 

There was nothing wrong with him.

 

“Peter, it worked.” Stiles whispered softly to himself, dropping his hand to the bed before looking the right where Peter had been just a moment before. “Peter! It wo…rk…ed…”

 

He wasn’t staring at Peter. Or at an old train station, or the trees of the preserve, or the inside of the jeep he’d been taken from, or even the high school that seemed to attract the unnatural to Beacon Hills like a moth to a flame.

 

No, instead Stiles was staring at the poster of Fall Out Boy that he knew he had taken off his bedroom wall over a year ago, replaced by a Supernatural information board dash crime board.

 

Jerking around hard enough that he nearly got whiplash, Stiles stared as he took in his own bedroom, as eerily normal as it had been before Scott was bitten. His many posters were still hanging on the wall, his gaming computer was still plugged in instead of being pushed to the side due to a lack of time, there were no boards up in his room and no patched up holes in the walls from where the Nogitsune had created a web of strings for Lydia to find.

 

His room was so normal, like the room of any other teenage boy, unaffected by the Supernatural forces that he now knew existed.

 

Distantly, Stiles heard his police radio crackle as a message came through.

 

“ _Sheriff Stilinski, half a body has been found in the preserve, we need you—_ ”

 

Stiles didn’t catch the rest as he turned to stare out of the window, where a full moon was gleaming in the dark sky. He didn’t hear his dad stumble down the stairs and get into the cruiser, white noise the only thing he heard as he realized just what had happened, just where he was, _when_ he was.

 

Half of a body found in the preserve.

 

His old room being back.

 

The gaping void where his Spark would have been.

 

His buzzed hair.

 

_Half of a body._

 

Somehow, Stiles had used his Spark to not only travel through the portal without burning himself to death, but to transport himself back in time, too, instead of just going back to the real world outside the train station.

 

Though, he had burned, hadn’t he? He had felt the flames, watched as his limbs reddened, blackened, flaking off to show excruciatingly painful burnt muscles, flames flickering over his skin, burning especially bright where his hand had been melted together with Peter’s.

 

Christ, Peter had burned again, burned in an attempt to stop that very same thing from happening again. He had tried to protect the wolf, tried to make sure they passed through safely instead of traumatizing him even further and instead he had—

 

A howl cut through his thoughts, close enough that Stiles felt what was clearly the call of an Alpha rattle his bones.

 

He had pulled them back through time. _Them. Them. Both of them_.

 

Stiles would recognize Peter’s Alpha roar anywhere, he had had nightmares about being chased through the high school for months. But at this time, this time the first time around, Stiles had been on his way to Scott to go find a body. Back then, there had definitely not been the monstrous form of a mentally unstable Alpha standing at the end of his street, staring straight at him.

 

Even though he knew it was Peter looking at him, Stiles couldn’t help but take an automatic step back before freezing, fear curling through him as the Alpha lowered himself on all four paws before bounding towards his house.

 

That was Peter, he knew that. But what he didn’t know was Peter’s current mental state — probably not too good considering everything that had happened to them, considering Peter would have just woken up in the hospital again with the power of an Alpha coursing through him.

 

The window shattered as Peter crashed through it, causing Stiles to scramble back as fast as he could, knocking himself off balance as he hit the side of the bed. Teetering on the edge of falling on his back, Stiles let out a frightened squeak as Peter knocked his massive form against him, pressing him down on the comforter even as the giant Werewolf crawled on top of him.

 

Time froze abruptly as if Peter and him became one of those ice sculptures his mom used to love. Werewolf and human stared at one another as a breath that smelled like hot death, _like old blood_ , wafted across Stiles’ face. The horrid smell went ignored, however, as Stiles looked at the gleaming red eyes of the Alpha crouched over him, limbs locked in place out of terror even as his heart tried to beat its way out of his chest.

 

After a long while, a low rumble started up from deep within Peter’s chest as his claws flexed and ripped up the covers besides Stiles’ head, his massive head bending down to nudge Stiles’ head to the side.

 

He didn’t dare move even a single muscle as the coarse coat of hair grazed over his neck, the hard press of the front of the Werewolf’s teeth making a shiver of fear run down his spine.

 

“Peter, don’t— _Peter_ ,” Stiles whispered urgently, wishing he could reach up and push Peter off of him, or at least push him up far enough that he could look the Alpha in the eyes and hopefully see recognition in them. But he found that he couldn’t make his arms move the way he wanted to, staying as motionless as he could, prey to the giant predator on top of him.

 

The sharp pinpoint tips of Peter’s fangs set against his throat, causing a terrified whimper to rise up from the back of Stiles’ throat. _He didn’t want to die_.

 

When after a long minute Peter still hadn’t made a next move, not removing his fangs from around Stiles’ very vulnerable human neck nor biting him or ripping his throat out, Stiles started to slowly inch one of his arms out to the side from underneath Peter’s heavy body.

 

Instead of pushing at Peter’s shoulder no matter how much it was his first instinct to do so, Stiles slowly let his hand rest on top of the Werewolf’s head, carefully keeping in mind not to touch his throat or the back of his neck.

 

The moment Stiles started to gently card his fingers through the thick fur, a low whine whispered against his neck, before fangs were replaced by a dry snout poking at him, the slightly deformed body lowering on top of Stiles even more as he did so, seeming to find comfort in the tentative patting.

 

“It’s alright Peter, you’re alright.” Stiles stumbled a little over his words as he spoke, still very aware of the dangerous teeth so very close to his throat.

 

He let out a little ‘oomph’ as Peter dropped completely on top of him, his heavy wolf form pinning him to the bed even as Peter’s emaciated form trembled with every whine. Stiles couldn’t do anything but carefully keep petting him, carding his hands through coarse fur and whispering soft reassurances as he did so.

 

It took what was probably close to a full hour for Peter to move his snout away from his neck, before Stiles felt the fur underneath his hands retract and disappear, the wolf slowly and painfully turning back into the man he knew. But the moment he had changed back, Peter collapsed back on top of Stiles, pushing his nose against his neck just below his ear.

 

Stiles found that he didn’t mind. He knew just how important scenting was for Werewolves, Malia had been very blunt when she had explained that, and right now Stiles was about the only thing for Peter that was a certainty.

 

Hell, Peter was the only certainty for him as well. The moment Stiles had somehow transported the both of them back through time, everything changed.

 

Or well, everything would change. He’d make damn sure of that.

**Author's Note:**

> I might or might not continue this in the future, I don't know yet. For now it's finished!
> 
> Come join me on [tumblr](https://www.merwin-me.tumblr.com/)


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